"Raising a kid is part joy and part guerrilla warfare."
~Ed Asner

Monday, March 22, 2010

I'm tired and I don't want to blog right now...

Hey You!  The one holding a delicious, creamy bowl of macaroni & cheese that has been carefully laced with puréed butternut squash.  My daughter laughs at your attempt to get her to eat a vegetable.

Hey You!  The one who bolted and screwed a sturdy wooden gate into the wall at the top of the basement steps.  My son scoffs at your attempt to confine him.  He lets out a beasty roar as he rips it out of the wall with his bare hands.

That pretty much sums up my day.  I've attempted to serve Izzie vegetables masked with tons of ooey gooey cheesy macaroni and cheese several times.  I've made different versions of the dish but have always been met with a resisting, "I don't like this," from Izzie.  And Noah….Noah, Noah, Noah…He loves throwing anything he can find down the basement steps.  He has no concern whether or not someone is walking down or up the stairs, so I'm always on the defensive.  His personal favorites are shoes.  After that he goes for the rugs, and then toys, dishes, clothes, whatever he can find.  He also likes to grab hold of the gate and shake it back and forth.  Kris already had to reinforce the gate once which means it was screwed and bolted very securely in the wall.  We're talking about Kris here.  If he wants something to stay put, it stays put.  But we're also talking about Noah.  And almost everyone who is reading this has seen firsthand how strong he is. 

And unlike Izzie, Noah loves vegetables.  He loves fruit.  He loves food.  It gives him strength.  It energizes him.  It renews him.  After a meal he gets out of the highchair and immediately proceeds to run throughout the house screaming, throwing things and throwing his body all over the place.  He laughs.  He shouts.   He plays tag with Izzie, and then he usually starts getting all wheezy and I have to give him a pacifier so he'll calm down and give his lungs a rest.  I remember at his last checkup the nurse was asking me about his diet.  She asked me if he was on a good range of solids, etc.  I told her that he was on a 'whatever we gave him' diet.  

Anyway…back to the fate of the gate.  This morning Noah ripped the gate out of the wall.  I'm not in the habit of giving him spinach for breakfast so there was no extra super human strength involved, just Noah being a beast.  Kris tried to fix it but realized he would have to make a trip to the Depot.  And since he works nights and is on 12 hour shifts this week, the gate would have to wait until tomorrow.  The kids were confined to the living room and nursery most of the day.  I wasn't afraid of Izzie or Noah falling down the stairs.  It's just that my son gets pure pleasure out of watching things fall down the stairs.  The last thing I needed was to see a flying Izzie or a flying baby dog or a flying kitchen sink go down the stairs.  Tomorrow we are getting a new gate.  Hmmm, I wonder if they make titanium gates.

Over and Out...or in bed...if I make it there.

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